


Good

by sonictrowel



Series: Long Night in the Blue House [45]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 00:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11002569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonictrowel/pseuds/sonictrowel
Summary: Melody Pond had never been a daughter.  That chance and so much more was stolen from her long before her earliest memories could form.  In fact, most of her memories from her first childhood were all a haze.  She knew all about the Doctor, or so she thought.  She knew she existed for the sake of destroying him, that it was a duty on which the fate of the universe hinged.  She knew if she didn’t fulfill her purpose, he would continue waging war across the stars, leaving swaths of destruction in his wake, turning a blind eye to genocides he could have prevented, and eventually bring all of existence to an end when he spoke his name.Funny, how easily he turned her whole world on its head when he told her he loved her.  Funny, how she was the only one who finally heard his name.  He always saved the best things for whispering in her ear.





	Good

[Darillium]

Melody Pond had never been a daughter.  That chance and so much more was stolen from her long before her earliest memories could form.  In fact, most of her memories from her first childhood were all a haze.  She knew all about the Doctor, or so she thought.  She knew she existed for the sake of destroying him, that it was a duty on which the fate of the universe hinged.  She knew if she didn’t fulfill her purpose, he would continue waging war across the stars, leaving swaths of destruction in his wake, turning a blind eye to genocides he could have prevented, and eventually bring all of existence to an end when he spoke his name.

Funny, how easily he turned her whole world on its head when he told her he loved her.  Funny, how she was the only one who finally heard his name.  He always saved the best things for whispering in her ear. 

She didn’t remember much about her keepers, not until she rediscovered them in the world that never was.  Her memories of a decrepit children’s home were all a painful blur.  She only knew that kindness wasn’t something she was very familiar with.  Eventually she determined that she’d take what she liked and amuse herself as she pleased, because no one else would ever be there for her, ever truly love her or look out for her.  She’d never _belong_ to anyone, so she’d have to simply make do with herself.  Even if she was always haunted by the vague awareness that she wasn’t really in control of herself or her life at all.

She knew she was a psychopath.  Made only to kill— to save the universe, yes, but a killer nonetheless. 

Still she made her way across the Atlantic, a lost little girl with nothing but the tattered clothes on her back, searching for years, fighting and stealing to survive, all to find the parents she couldn’t even remember.  That human ache and desperate want for love and belonging, for a home and a family, never truly faded.

The Doctor always hated when River called herself a psychopath.  And in those rare, still, vulnerable moments in their life before Darillium, when she was lying in his arms, searching those clear hazel eyes for the reassurance she was too afraid or ashamed to ask for aloud, he told her.

“How could you think that about yourself, River?”  His voice was gentle, not accusing.  “How can you think that when you’re so very _good?”_

He brushed a curl back from her forehead while she watched him in silence, too strained with suppressing a mess of emotions and the aching tightness in her throat to risk a response.

“You were so understanding and patient with me.”  He paused and frowned.  “Will be.  I’m sorry for that.  I’m… hard work young.”  

He kissed her softly, briefly, and she tried to chase after his lips, to lose herself in him and make them both forget she’d let him see her like this.  But he raised his hand to her cheek and leaned back to look in her eyes again.

“Whenever it’s life or death, you put everyone before yourself,” he said, a little hoarsely.  There was something in his expression she couldn’t quite define, but it made a cold shiver pass through her.  He kissed her again before she could think about it too much.

“You care so much, _love_ so much,” he whispered, “So much more than I deserve.  No psychopath could do any of that, dear.”

“I do kill people,” River mumbled.

“You kill to protect people.”  He was quiet for a moment.  “The universe can’t always be saved by a hypocrite calling himself a pacifist because he doesn’t want more blood on his hands.  Sometimes… someone has to be willing to fight.”

 _“Well,_ we’re being honest tonight, aren’t we?”

“Trying,” the Doctor replied with a weak smile, tapping her nose.  “It’s important.  It’s important for you to know, because River, you’re just— wonderful.”  He smiled at her again, loving and genuine and somehow pained, and the emotion in his voice was enough to make her breath catch.  This certainly wasn’t Rule One.  He seemed momentarily as overcome as she was, and then a corner of his mouth turned up as he whispered to her conspiratorially.  “A little grand theft auto never hurt anyone, anyway.”

She narrowed her eyes at him but smiled in spite of herself, and when he kissed her this time, he stayed for a while.  

“I wish it had been different,” he said when their lips parted, soft and serious again.  “I wish you’d never been taken and hurt and brainwashed and had your life ruined because of me.  I wish I could take all of that back, and your life could be as happy as you deserve.”  He brushed his thumb over her cheek, meeting her eyes.  “But I don’t wish you were different, River.  The person you are, that’s who I…” his voice wobbled and he paused.  “That’s who I fell in love with.” 

River drew in a sharp breath and blinked before the tears could fill her eyes.  He so rarely managed to actually say the word.  

“I wouldn’t change it,” she said, urgently.  “I wouldn’t risk changing a single line.   _This,”_ she squeezed his hand, “is worth all of it.”

“I know.  And… your parents might not’ve been so keen on me dating their daughter if I’d met you in the right order,” he cringed.

“Let’s not think about that,” River said, before she grabbed the back of his head and pulled his mouth against hers again.  

She tugged him to the side and the Doctor took her cue to roll them over so he was on top of her.  Her hands slipped under his braces, pulling them down over his shoulders.

His hot mouth moved to her neck and her ear.  “You’re good, honey,” he whispered.  “You’re so very good.  They couldn’t take that out of you.  No one could take that from you.”

River hugged him close and for a breathless first moment, she let go and let herself believe it.

“Don’t worry,” he added, in that low, promising tone that made her stomach flutter.  “I’ll still call you my bad girl.”

_

As the years went by River settled into herself, and took the time to explore all of the other things she could be.  Beyond cold and clever and deadly; beyond reckless, adrenaline-chasing and self-sacrificing.  Beyond only loving her Doctor, to opening herself to truly loving her friends, to forging a new relationship with her parents.  It would never be the same; she would never be their daughter, but it was precious to her nonetheless.

She became a professor and was able to enjoy teaching and leading and being a delightfully irresponsible influence on a new generation.  And she started to think that maybe she wasn’t so broken, and maybe it wasn’t so impossible; that though she’d never been a daughter, she could be a mother.

But the Doctor was getting younger every day.  That patience he’d once apologised to her for having to show him— she felt she would soon need a lot more of it.  He was still her husband, most days.  He still loved her.  Sometimes he was clearly fresh from their honeymoon, blatantly besotted and incapable of keeping his hands off of her.  She didn’t mind that one bit.

But then sometimes he was even flightier than usual, or couldn’t control his damn temper when things went wrong, and took it out on her just because he seemed to know that she could take it.  Or made immature, impossible demands because he couldn’t face the truth.  Sometimes, he was too young to truly appreciate why she always stepped in to be the one willing to fight.  There was a certain deep understanding between them, built on decades of love and trust and intimacy, that was beginning to slip away the younger he was.  And River feared, someday soon, there would be even more difficult losses to contend with.

Well, that was that— the timing just never worked out, with their back-to-front lives.  If there had been some perfect point in the middle, it’d already passed them by.  There was no one else in the universe River would even consider taking this huge, terrifying chance with.  Even if she lived on so far into his past he had no idea who she was.  Even if someday she never saw him again.  She wouldn’t share this with anyone else.  It would be their family, hers and the Doctor’s, or none at all.  

And so, none at all it was.

___

The Doctor had spread out a picnic blanket on the floor of the lounge, in the flickering firelight and the rainbow glow of the fairy lights on the Christmas tree.  He lay stretched out on his stomach, a tender smile on his lips as he watched Athena.  She was sat on the blanket, trilling and squealing, gripping a teething ring that rattled in one tiny hand.  She periodically began to list to the side or the back, and the Doctor would raise his hand to steady her before she toppled over.

It still took River by surprise all the time; it just wouldn’t seem to permanently sink in.  Having all this time with him, nearly linear, newly open and honest and more in love than ever— that in itself had been more than she’d ever dared hope for.  But their baby, really and truly existing right here— it was difficult for her mind to remember to believe.  Just as she still struggled sometimes with knowing what part of her was what, what part of her was _her,_ fully integrating a new bit called “Mum” was taking some time.  The Doctor always reminded her, though, that he loved every part.

His soft eyes met hers over Athena’s head, and she couldn’t help but grin at him.  

“I think we might be spoiling her,” he said with an amused smile, glancing over at the fairly absurdly large pile of packages under the tree.

“Impossible,” River scoffed.  “Besides,” she said more quietly, “I want to give her everything while I can.”  

Her smile fell and her eyes fell to Athena, and the pull to hold her gripped her so strongly, it was like a command bypassing her conscious mind, issuing from somewhere in her brain stems.  River leaned forward and scooped her up, cradling her warm, wriggling little body against her chest and shoulder.  Cuddling her was startlingly addictive.  A tiny hand instantly entangled itself none too gently in her hair as Athena cooed cheerfully about her favourite yellow thing.

“You won’t be spoiled, will you, love?” River asked indulgently.  “You just like nice things, like Mummy does.”

When she glanced up, the Doctor was watching them with a pained, sympathetic smile.  They’d started talking about this as soon as they’d started trying to conceive.  He had some ideas about what she got up to, after Darillium and before… the end.  He’d been there for a couple of them; he wouldn’t say what or when, but it must have been before he knew her.  Apparently they weren’t the sort of things one would hire a sitter and pop out to take care of in a day, time travel or no.  There hadn’t been any little girl with her.

For her part, River had read just about everything there was to read on the Doctor, and hadn’t seen mention of him with any children since Susan.

Of course, it was possible that he’d made sure there were no records for some reason.  But having that uncertainty looming before them had been terrifying when Athena was theoretical.  Now that she was here, there weren’t words to describe the feeling.  But they’d make sure that, whatever happened, she would be safe.  And it would be worth it, in the end.  When they were all together again, one day, it would be worth it.  River tried to keep remembering that when the panic set in.

And then there was the other matter they’d begun tossing about recently.  There were four years to go.  Now they knew they would have _two_ daughters.  When would it be time to start again, for Amelia?

The Doctor sat up and crawled over beside River, wrapping his arm around her back and kissing her cheek.  His mind brushed soothingly against hers and she turned to face him, smiling gratefully.  Athena leaned back wobbily in River’s hand, reaching in her father’s direction, and River winced as her tiny fist tugged at the hair it was hopelessly entangled with.

“I’ve got the nicest Christmas presents this year,” the Doctor said softly, leaning forward toward Athena, his hair brushing River’s cheek.  Athena babbled happily and he squinted as her other little hand landed with some force on his nose.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading and your lovely comments on the last ones!


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